The Case of Henry Kipling
by SerHolmes
Summary: A child died on his bed, this brings the duo of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson to investigate this case.


**The Case of Henry Kipling**

"Would you hand me a pen, Watson?" Holmes asked as his hand reached out as an open palm, sitting on a chair near Lestrade's table.

"Yes I would but there is one just in front of you, Holmes." I replied, standing near the Lestrade's door.

"It requires energy, Watson, I need my mind in a perfect state of thought, now if you please, hand me a pen." Knowing that it is impossible to argue with the great Sherlock Holmes, I went towards the table and picked up the pen that was so close to the hand he was using to hold a paper down. I proceeded to hand him the the pen on his palm to which he quickly snatched it and scribbled some words onto the piece of paper. "Writing the story, aren't you?" I asked with slight discomfort. "Yes, Watson. People will have to believe what was written on The Strand magazine until they have found this, the truth."

"Would they believe it however?"

"Whether they believe it or not, it is fact and nothing can change it."

Just as Holmes had finished his sentence, Lestrade opened the door and made a slight jump, "Bloody Hell, what are you two doing here then?" He inquired with a startled look.

"Oh hello Lestrade-" My sentence was cut short when Holmes interrupted, "Mrs. Hudson has been nagging us and we require peace which brought us here, now if you please, I have something of great importance to do."

"Well I'm glad you're here actually. We just had a case, a kid was found dead on his bed." Lestrade uttered.

"I'm busy at the moment, Lestrade. You can bring along your police friends and solve the case yourself."

"It wouldn't take much of your time, Holmes. Besides, you haven't had a case for weeks now." Silence took place in the room when Holmes suddenly said, "Very well, where are we headed?"

"A house in Lambeth."

"Take the paper, Watson, I've written down most of it, you can add the details later. Come on then, the game is afoot." Holmes proclaimed as he hurried out Scotland Yard.

The same happened as Lestrade and I followed Holmes out of Scotland Yard and took a carriage to Lambeth. Once we arrived, the muddy water near the streets made contact with our boots and Holmes had first walked up to the house and knocked on the door as I paid the cabby. I quickly walked up to the house which was in a good condition, the windows were shut tight and the door was carved well. The door then was opened by a man around his fifties, he had a monocle on him and had a sad look on his face, he opened his mouth and asked "Are you the police?"

"No, I don't belong with one of those low-graded law enforcement units, the name's Sherlock Holmes and I'm a private detective, where is the body?" Holmes quickly said as he stepped into the house with no hesitation.

"I apologize but I believe I called the police here, not a private detective."

"That you have, I assure you that Holmes will assist the police with this investigation." I replied with haste as Lestrade tried to explain.

"Now that that's over with, can we get to the body please?" Holmes suggested and so we did, we arrived in front of a door that was wide open and at the end of the room was a bed with the body of a child. The man stood by the door and burst into tears while a maid and a butler stood near him and glanced to the floor. Lestrade decided to look around the house for evidence as Holmes and I walked in the room for investigation. The room was filled with bug collections and there was a bottle of medicine and a spoon on the table. Holmes started by the door, to the windows, to the table beside the bed and finally, to the bed. Holmes took a long look at the body and then walked out the door. "Anything, Lestrade?" Holmes asked loudly to which Lestrade replied with the shake of a head. "Did you find anything, private detective?" Asked the man, who I suppose was the father of the child.

"Oh just a few things here and there," Holmes claimed, "Lestrade, you can bring the body for an examination now."

"Holmes, perhaps you could tell us what you have uncovered in the room?" Lestrade inquired.

"I found out that the door was locked and you forced yourself in, the windows were also locked and was not broken into, there were also no holes for anybody to crawl in, making it a locked room where nobody but the child was in the room."

"A suicide then?" I hinted.

"It would appear so. Dr. Kipling, you were the one who provided his medicine, am I correct?"

"Yes.. Yes I did but how could you have known about it?"

"It was evident that you were a doctor when I first met you, your hand had cuts only a doctor would have when attempting an operation, I also saw that you have a doctor's outfit hanging on the wall beside the front door. You also had a scent of medicine around you that no one else seem to recognize sadly," Holmes said as he looked at me and I just nodded with embarrassment, "Most importantly, the medicine had a label for your clinic. Anyhow, the child seemed to have suffocated or was induced by poison."

"Poison? But, but how?" Fear shivered Dr. Kipling.

"Someone might have poisoned the medicine before you handed it to him."

"Well I didn't hand him the poison myself, I sent our maid, Lorelei, to give it to him."

Our attention was turned towards the maid who got scared, "I, I didn't hand it to him personally, misters, I was busy helping the mistress clean her room when Dr. Kipling passed the medicine to me so I handed it to Frederick, the butler."

With haste, Frederick said "I was given the medicine, yes. I handed it to young Henry immediately as I was worried for his health."

"Would any of you remember the time for each of you to complete these tasks?" I inquired and was replied with a shake of the head by the three. Holmes took a look back in the room and clarified "As much as a suicide this looks, I'm afraid it's murder."

Everyone turned towards Holmes with shock and my companion continued, "The boy was on the bed when he died, he couldn't have strangled himself, he had nothing on him but his clothes, the buttons were all there, nothing else in the room was moved, he couldn't have punched himself to death. There was also no needle or knife or any sharp object in the room, not under the bed, not on the table, nothing. All evidence points to this being murder, but how?" Holmes smirked and everyone else felt uncomfortable.

Lestrade then took the body back to Scotland Yard for an examination whilst Holmes and I stayed for interrogations. We began with the father of the victim, Dr. Kipling. "Is there anyone who would hurt your son, Dr. Kipling?" I interrogated as I opened my notebook.

"No, none that I know of. My son has always been a good boy, nobody would want to hurt him."

"Where's Mrs. Kipling then?" Holmes interrupted.

"Weeping in the room, I'm afraid it will take more than me to convince her to come out."

"And this medicine you gave your son, what disease was it to cure?"

"It was just for his fever, he got it a few days ago."

"And have you tampered with this medicine?"

"Holmes!" I shouted.

"It's okay, Dr. Watson. This medicine was custom made actually, there's an ingredient in normal medicine that my son is allergic to, so I had to reduce it's quantity."

"And what ingredient is that?" Holmes inquired.

"Acetaminophen apparently." Dr. Kipling sobbed.

"What about Lorelei and Frederick?"

"Lorelei has been our maid ever since I got married, she has been loyal to our family and would never hurt Henry. Frederick offered to be our butler just last month, he said he would just like to help out."

"Thank you for your time Dr. Kipling. You can try comfort your wife now." I went on and he ended our conversation with a nod.

"Watson, could you help me check the medicine rack while I interrogate our suspects please?" Holmes commanded to which I replied with a nod.

I looked around for the medicine rack and found it in the kitchen, they had all types of medicine here but only one caught my eye, the medicine for fever. I took it and walked back to the living room only to find Holmes sitting down alone with his hands to his chin.

"Holmes, I found a bottle of medicine." I notified him.

"It is for fever, yes?"

"Yes, will we be needing this later?"

"That we are, Watson. Get me the one in the boy's room too, I will need to run some experiments on them." I then walked back to the room and took the bottle back to my companion who was still sitting alone while everyone else is trying to talk to Mrs. Kipling. "She won't be coming out anytime soon." Holmes concluded suddenly.

"What did you learn from Lorelei and Frederick then?"

"Lorelei claimed to be the one giving Henry meals every now and then but was convinced that she was in the mistresses' room the entire time the murder happened. I also noticed that Lorelei got cut on her finger to which she claims to be a cut from trimming the bushes this morning. Frederick then said he was about to go to the kitchen when Lorelei gave him the medicine, he went to the kitchen with the medicine for a moment to get a spoon and went towards young Henry's room to place the medicine on the table. He explained that Henry was still alive at that moment and was told to lock the room until dinner was to be served. I noticed that Frederick was married once but got divorced, he told me of his late son who was a patient to Dr. Kipling but had passed away. In any case, we should get to Scotland Yard, get results from the examination and conduct an experiment back in Baker Street."

I agreed with Holmes and went back to Scotland Yard as soon as we left Lambeth. When we arrived there, Lestrade was on his way out and saw us, "Thank God the both of you arrived, we achieved results for the examination."

"And what are they, Lestrade?" Holmes questioned.

"It was poison, lethal and strong. It was unclear where it came from but our men says that it was a poison called Hemlock."

"Hemlock? It was used for medicine by the Anglo-Saxons. Dr. Kipling might have a medicine that contains Hemlock in it, that's up to you to find out now Lestrade."

"Well then where are you headed?" Lestrade asked with a perplexed look.

"Back to Baker Street, we have to experiment on these bottles of medicine," Holmes said as we got on a carriage, "It's not that hard of a task Lestrade, that's why you're doing it."

On the ride back, I took the bottles of medicine and found out that acetaminophen was taken out the label from one of the bottles, I informed Holmes about this and he just said "Well now we know the difference between the two bottles." We made our way back to Baker Street and slowly opened the door to 221B only to find Mrs. Hudson cleaning the room but we just walked in and started the experiment when Mrs. Hudson began talking to us about hoarding books and papers everywhere. I entertained Mrs. Hudson while Holmes was conducting his experiments. When Mrs. Hudson was finally calmed down, she left the room and I walked towards my companion who suddenly stood up.

"Anything, Holmes?"

"It's hard to detect the presence of acetaminophen but I succeeded, the bottle with the label off has more acetaminophen than the bottle with the label on."

"Is the killer trying to confuse everyone then?"

"Precisely, Watson. I see you have caught up well."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I have always said that I find that it is usually in unimportant matters that there is a field for the observation and in this case, the labels."

"Well I had a good teacher." I smiled gratefully.

"We should return to Lambeth, there is something we have to find in the house." Holmes mentioned and so we took off for Lambeth on a carriage. We arrived there minutes later only to find Lestrade and a few policemen handcuffing Lorelei, "What the deuce?" Holmes murmured. We finally stopped and got down as quickly as possible, "What is this Lestrade?" I inquired.

"We found drops of Hemlock in the kitchen and on the plates, Lorelei was the only person serving our victim food here so it must be her. Admit it Holmes, we have finally solved a case without your conclusion."

"You jump into conclusions too quickly Lestrade but do as you will, we will solve the case properly this time. Come Watson." Holmes walked away furiously.

"Perhaps you could put her in prison as a suspect until we return?" I whispered to Lestrade.

"As much as I would object, I will do as you say, but if you don't return, she will be in prison permanently." He responded and rode off to Scotland Yard.

I took a deep breath and entered the Kipling residence but there was no sign of Holmes, I looked around the house only to find him in the kitchen going through the trash can, "Holmes, what on earth are you doing?" I asked nervously.

"What does it look like Watson, I'm going through the trash can to find," Holmes stopped and pulled something out, "Ahhh, there we go." He held it up to me and it was a strip of paper with the word 'Acetaminophen' on it. "This is from the bottle! Holmes, how did you know to find the kitchen?"

"Because I had a suspicion, now all we need is the motive. Why did he kill him?"

"The killer's a he then?"

"Of course it's a he, Lorelei couldn't have done it, she had no motives whatsoever," Once again Holmes stopped, a smile forming on his mouth, "Watson, get me Dr. Kipling's patient record for the past year, I have to check something."

"But why?"

"Less questions, more work, Watson. I'll put this bottle back in the room." Holmes said as he went off to Henry's room. So I did as he asked, I asked Dr. Kipling for his patient record but he countered by saying that it is restricted for him to show anyone else the records, I managed to persuade him after a few tries. We then walked together alongside Mrs. Kipling who finally came out of the room, she was a beautiful woman, a few years younger than Dr. Kipling I would presume, she had firm hands and tears all over her face. When we arrived to the room, the door was closed, so I opened it only to find Holmes sitting on a chair with his legs crossed and a cup on his hand, we also saw Frederick cuffed to the bed. The Kiplings were gasping and I stared at Holmes, "Holmes, what is this all about?"

"This, Watson, is where Frederick murdered Henry."

"What? What are you talking about, Holmes?"

"Frederick went to the kitchen to get a spoon but not only a spoon, the fever medicine that has the normal amount of acetaminophen in it, he knew Henry had an allergy, he knew what age Henry was as well."

"His age? What does his age have to do with anything, Holmes?"

"Open up the patient records, Watson, find the name 'Ethan Grayson', you will notice that he is of the same age as Henry when he died." I flipped through the patient records and found Ethan Grayson, died at the age of nine due to cholera, a treatable disease if treatment was given before it was too late.

"Cholera, isn't it, Watson? Read out the date of death for me would you?"

"29th January... My God, Holmes. It's today's date!"

"Precisely, Frederick wasn't fast enough to get Ethan to Dr. Kipling, he managed to arrive for an operation that never happened. Ethan died just before Dr. Kipling could give the operation."

"It was his fault! He and his stingy arse didn't help my son!" Frederick cried out all of the sudden.

"But Frederick, Ethan was sent in too late, a minute earlier and we could have saved him!" Dr. Kipling protested.

"You took my son away from me, how does it feel to lose a son like I did?" Frederick sobbed as he lied down on the floor.

There was nothing but the sound of grief surrounding the room for a moment when Dr. Kipling finally said "Mr. Holmes, thank you," Holmes gave him a nod and stood up, "but could you please, let him free. He's but a man undoing the wrongs of another man."

"He undid a wrong that was never your fault to begin with, Dr. Kipling, your offer for this man's life is... generous, however justice plays no hand if that were the case. I respect your opinion, doctor, but this man is to be charged for murder, he is also the key for Lorelei's freedom." Holmes explained.

The Kipling couple gave a sad nod and we brought Frederick to Scotland Yard, Lorelei was freed from prison and back to the Kipling residence. Holmes and I went back to Baker Street and sat down on our respective armchairs. "Will you begin writing it then?" Holmes had reminded me.

"Soon. What shall we call it, Holmes?"

"The Perilous Nemesis."


End file.
